


Random Halloween Prompt Ficlets

by Dovesummer



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: At some point there will likely be smut, M/M, Random Halloween Prompts, random AU, tags to be updated as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dovesummer/pseuds/Dovesummer
Summary: I'm writing Hannictober prompt responses in another work, but there are lots of October prompt lists out there.  So here is the "I was bored" work of random prompts where I literally just googled prompt lists for October and said "I will write something for that".  I set a limit of no more than 500 words for any of these (hence "ficlets").1. Poison - AU Hannibal runs a special shop2. Séance - AU Will is a medium3. Doll - Your Standard Creepy Doll, blowjobs (more implied than described, honestly, but I still updated the rating)4. Tarot - Post Fall, Will and Hannibal visit a fortune teller, the results are unusual.5. Black Cat - AU, Hannibal meets a familiar6. Raven - AU, unexplained supernatural elements7. Being Followed - Will regrets being social11/01 I'm calling this one complete at 7 chapters - October has ended and it was for the heck of it anyway,  I'm sure there will be plenty of other opportunities for fun quick fics!
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	1. Poison

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly I have very little going on right now if I'm doing random prompts in addition to the Hannictober prompts, but there isn't much to do. This pandemic is getting old. 
> 
> Thanks in advance for reading.

Hannibal looked up at the tinkling of the bell signaling that someone had entered his shop. He was expecting one of his regulars but instead it was a young man with dark, chocolatey curls and piercing blue eyes. 

The young man met Hannibal’s eyes for a brief moment before curling in on himself. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted his attention from his surroundings to his shoes. 

Hannibal watched, intrigued, as the young man shuffled slowly toward the counter, refusing to look up. He appeared incredibly shy, but he’d had the courage to walk through the door alone, as an unknown entity - which spoke to an underlying courage he had yet to display but doubtless existed. 

After all, Hannibal’s store was not easily found and not easily entered. He trafficked in a very specific product line. 

“Is there something I can help you find?” Hannibal asked the young man. He caught a brief glimpse of blue as his eyes flicked up and quickly away. 

“I’m uh, looking for belladonna,” the young man said. “Your store was recommended to me as a place that would have it in its pure form.” 

“ _Atropa belladonna_ , also known as deadly nightshade.” Hannibal pulled the vial, grabbing a dropper and jar in order to transfer the liquid. “A very specific poison.”

The young man said nothing, merely nodded.

“ _Bella donna_ is Italian for beautiful woman, so named because Italian women used eye drops made from an extract of the berries to dilate their pupils and appear more seductive.” Hannibal regarded the young man. “Though no doubt you knew that,” he concluded. 

The man nodded again curtly. 

“Is that your intended use?” Hannibal asked gently. Another nod. “May I ask why?” Hannibal prodded. 

“A coworker invited me to her Halloween party,” he said, shyly. A familiar story, Hannibal thought. He looked the young man up and down. He was very attractive. If that was already going unnoticed by the object of his affections, Hannibal doubted the belladonna would make a difference. He felt a sudden surge of affection for the young man. 

“Well, if I may -“ Hannibal looked at the young man expectantly, awaiting a name. 

“Will,” he supplied, looking up briefly, those eyes causing Hannibal’s breath to hitch. 

“Will,” Hannibal repeated, enjoying the way the name rolled off his tongue. “Well, Will,” he leaned into the name again, “I hope I’m not being too forward if I say you don’t need the belladonna and this woman doesn’t deserve you.”

The flush that crept up Will’s face made him all the more lovely.


	2. Séance

“Did you find the wires?” Will asked, though it was clear from his tone it wasn’t truly a question. 

“They were well hidden,” Hannibal said. More ingenious than most of the mediums he had been to, in fact. There were three wires in the foot of the table that traveled under the floor and inside the walls, where a small wooden mallet would knock and create the sounds of the spirit world. 

It required that Will maneuver the wires with his toes. He had to be quite dexterous to do so, particularly to have all three of them knock in quick succession as he had done in the middle of the performance.

“I would prefer not to use them,” Will said. “But the sounds and pageantry are expected.”

When Hannibal said nothing Will looked at him and smiled softly. “You’re surprised.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “And you’re surprised I can tell you’re surprised.” 

Curious, Hannibal inclined his head slightly, the barest indication of a nod. 

“The dead rarely speak.” Will’s tone was confessional. “What I provide isn’t words from beyond, but comfort.” 

Hannibal considered the young man. He had to admit that during the seance Will had demonstrated an uncanny ability to understand what each participant was feeling and address their fear or sadness. It was, by far, the best performance Hannibal had attended. Will was talented.

The medium’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Occasionally they do speak, though,” he continued. This time Hannibal didn’t attempt to hide his surprise. Will was quite the artist - he spoke the Lithuanian words slowly, like he was hearing them from someone else first. His pronunciation was good but not flawless, as though he was trying very hard to repeat exactly what he was hearing but the sounds were unfamiliar to him. 

It was a few moments before Hannibal considered the meaning of the words instead of merely the sound. When he did, he stilled, staring. Will finally ended with the words _pour quoi._

“I understand the French at the end,” Will said. “ _Why._ But what does the rest of it mean?”

Hannibal was visibly shaken. “It means,” he began hoarsely, then cleared his throat and composed himself. 

“It means,” he said, “that I am undecided.” 

Will’s smile was full of unspoken knowledge. “About my skills or about exposing me?”

“Both,” Hannibal said, staring into the street. 

Will’s smile had not changed. He turned back toward his home and placed a hand gently over Hannibal’s bicep. 

“I suppose I should thank you for that, Count Lecter,” he said. “I hope to see you next week.” His blue eyes were bright, his look questioning. Hannibal felt an uncharacteristic flutter in his stomach and he swallowed it down, nodding. He would most certainly be back; he was curious to see where this would go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to be honest, I kind of wanted more of this one.


	3. Doll

Hannibal found the doll at the market. An old porcelain one, its paint chipped and its originally red, curly hair dingy and slightly grey and sticking out at odd angles. But the eyes were oddly piercing and seemed to stare straight through you. It also had a slightly parted mouth, which Will thought was unusual (though he couldn’t claim to know anything about dolls) and which made it seem like the doll was constantly panting for breath. 

“Creepy,” was all Will said when he saw it. Which of course delighted Hannibal. He’d set it on the buffet during dinner, on the armchair in the den while they were relaxing before bed, and on a bookcase when they both sat reading. All because he was curious to see Will’s reaction. Will ignored it.

This, however, was the last straw. Will was hard and aching and Hannibal’s mouth was warm velvet. But he had the misfortune to moan and turn his head slightly - only to see the doll staring back at him with those piercing eyes and slightly parted lips, as if it were watching a show. 

“Hannibal,” he panted, “you have got to get rid of the doll.”

Pausing, Hannibal gave Will a curious look and then his eyes shifted to look at the doll, sitting in the windowsill and staring at them. Hannibal grunted and, somehow without ever completely removing his mouth from Will’s cock, picked up a spare sheet and tossed it, covering the doll's face. 

Without a voyeur Will was able to enjoy himself. They were virtually experts at this now; Hannibal knew exactly when to shift, when to pull back to prolong pleasure, and when and how to send Will headlong over the edge of release. 

And Will delighted in knowing every almost inaudible hitch in Hannibal’s breath, each tiny, involuntary tensing of muscle, and hearing the groan the other man could never quite seem to stifle as he came, followed each time by the soft exhalation of “Will.” 

As they lay together, sticky with sweat, Will glanced over at the window. The sheet had fallen off the doll, and Will could have sworn its position had shifted slightly to get a better view of them. 

He sat up quickly. “Are you ok?” Hannibal asked. 

Will pointed. “That doll is going in the trash.” Hannibal nodded. He pulled on a robe and picked up the doll, leaving the room. A few minutes later he returned. 

“I placed it in the trash outside,” Hannibal said, discarding the robe and settling back into bed beside Will.

“If that doll is in our room when we wake up I will murder you,” Will said, yawning and snuggling closer. 

Hannibal chuckled in response and pulled him tight.


	4. Tarot

The fortune teller wasn’t flashy, dressed all in black with kohl accentuating her already dark eyes. She shuffled the tarot cards and flashed a smile. It was a simple three card spread: past/present/future. 

Will watched her handle the cards with amusement. He glanced over at Hannibal who was also watching her, the fraction of a smile on his face. She passed the cards to Will. 

“Shuffle for as long as you would like,” she said, “Concentrate on your question. Once you’re satisfied, cut the deck twice.”

Accepting the cards, Will glanced at Hannibal again.

“Don’t look at your friend,” the fortune teller said. “Concentrate on the cards.”

Laughing to himself but sufficiently chastised Will turned his attention to the cards, enjoying the calming effect of shuffling them. Once he was satisfied he set them on the table and cut once, then again, passing the cards back to the fortune teller. She pulled the top card, flipping it: The Tower. The second card: Death. The third card: The Lovers. 

“Interesting,” she said and proceeded to give Will an analysis of the cards that he didn’t really listen to. He’d never had a Tarot card reading before, but the results were certainly interesting. A plunge into oblivion, death and rebirth, lovers. Although according to the part of the spiel he listened to the card The Lovers indicated a choice in relationship or simply a choice in general. He chanced a quick glance at Hannibal, who seemed to be listening with interest. 

When the fortune teller was done she repeated the process with Hannibal, who shuffled, cut twice, and passed the cards back. Once again, she flipped the top three cards. Death. The Tower. The Lovers. 

“That’s odd,” she said. Handing the cards back to Hannibal she asked him to shuffle again and to _concentrate_. He shuffled for longer this time, then passed the cards back again. The Lovers. Death. The Tower. 

The fortune teller looked at him strangely. 

“The order changes the reading, does it not?” Hannibal said. 

“It does,” she said, “but it’s like your past and future flow together. Things intermingle. It’s - cloudy.” She squinted at Hannibal, as though trying to see him more clearly. Then she looked over to Will. Picking up the deck, she passed it to him. 

Wordlessly Will shuffled, cut twice, and passed it back. The Tower. The Lovers. Death. 

“That’s impossible,” the future teller said softly. She flipped over the next card in the deck: The Moon. “I think this one is for me.” She looked between Will and Hannibal. “What is with you two?”

Hannibal didn’t react and Will merely shrugged. As they left, he looked at Hannibal. “What do you think it means?”

“I think you said it years ago,” Hannibal said quietly, taking Will’s hand. “We’re conjoined.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was kind of silly, but I enjoyed the idea of the two of them getting the same "future" over and over.
> 
> So it occurred to me later that I should maybe explain the Tarot cards - you don't necessarily need to know for the story to (mostly) make sense, although the reference to The Moon might not be clear. I used to read Tarot with my college roommates a lot. You'll probably get slightly different interpretations depending on who you ask (and also people who are good at Tarot readings may interpret them slightly differently in the overall context of the reading) but beyond the obvious symbolism generally agreed upon meanings are as follows: 
> 
> **Death** \- something coming to an end. a shift in circumstance, an opportunity to start something new, rebirth. this card is often considered "scary" but it doesn't mean literal death, just change and opportunity.  
>  **The Tower** \- this one is actually the more disturbing card. it symbolizes chaos and destruction, but it also represents change. generally a sudden, unexpected one.  
>  **The Lovers** \- a little more literal, it represents relationships and choices often, but necessarily, in a romantic sense (sometimes choosing between partners). since "relationship" can have a rather broad definition it can also be considered a relationship with something versus someone - ie, you need to make a choice about how much time you're devoting to a certain aspect of your life. but generally it means making a choice that will have lasting ramifications, something not to be made lightly.  
>  **The Moon** \- this card symbolizes illusion and deception. sometimes you are deceiving yourself or something was misunderstood, but also "all is not as it seems". which is why the fortune teller flips it over and says it's meant for her. there is more than meets the eye here!
> 
> some of you probably got that without me explaining, some might not care . . . but maybe you found it interesting. :)


	5. Black Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to update this work for a bit, so I'm glad I finally have the opportunity to write something for it. However, disclaimer - I wrote this on my phone during a long and quite boring shift at my second job, so I apologize in advance if there are any egregious spelling/grammar errors, and I will try to fix them later if so.

The creature had first appeared a week prior strutting down the sidewalk, tail swishing and curling, daring anyone to block its path. 

As Hannibal returned from his neighbors - they’d had the misfortune to receive each other’s mail - he found himself in the cat’s way. It paused, sitting on its haunches and fixing Hannibal with a yellow-eyed stare, black fur shining like onyx. 

Hannibal was had the odd feeling he should step aside and allow the cat to pass. Curious, he did. The cat licked its paw and stretched languorously before resuming its walk. It cast a sidelong glance at Hannibal as it passed, disdain clear in its amber eyes, as if to indicate that he should have moved aside much sooner.

Hannibal chuckled. Although not an animal lover by nature, he had always felt an affinity for cats; their haughty worldview appealed to him.

After this initial encounter Hannibal began to see the cat more often. It frequently sat on the sidewalk staring at the house, or sometimes stretched leisurely at the edge of the property line. The cat seemed to have a sense of propriety; it watched Hannibal’s house but did not approach.

Until now. Hannibal returned home from his final appointment to find the cat sitting at his front door, appearing, for all intents and purposes, like it had been waiting for him to arrive. It regarded him with those now familiar yellow eyes, tail swishing agitatedly across the ground. 

The possibility that it was a familiar should have occurred to Hannibal earlier. There was a particular air about the animal. 

“Take me to your master,” he said. The cat stilled for a moment, driving home the point that Hannibal did not command it, before twitching its tail and walking away.

Hannibal didn’t need to follow for long. In short order they came to a home that had sat vacant for several months before finally being purchased several weeks earlier. The new owner was apparently quite reclusive and all anyone knew was that his name was Will Graham. 

The door opened and he followed the cat inside. He was greeted by a grinning young man with unruly chocolate curls and blue eyes that sparked of power.

“Welcome back, Mathilde,” he said. “Welcome, Hannibal Lecter.”

“Why am I here?” Hannibal asked without preamble.

“I believe you asked Mathilde to bring you,” Will said, amused. Hannibal said nothing. 

“You consumed my apprentice,” Will continued, tilting his head. “Jack was an unpleasant man, but powerful. I’m curious as to how.”

“He was ... careless,” Hannibal said. “How did you know?”

Will smirked. “Someone with your _hobbies_ should be aware that by consuming a mage you consume his magic. Isn’t that why you did it?”

Hannibal shook his head. “He was rude,” was all he said. 

“Well,” Will looked at him eagerly. “As you have taken his magic, so have you taken his place. Come, Hannibal, we have much to discuss.”

From behind him came the sound of the door locking.


	6. Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU, magical realism, although I don't exactly explain myself here. A large black bird shows up!

The thud against the door startled him, and Will pulled aside the curtain to peer through the window. A large bird was perched on one of the patio chairs, it’s feathers so black they were almost blue. It regarded Will with darkly intelligent eyes, tilting its head as if to ask “aren’t you going to let me in?” Allowing the curtain to close, Will sighed and moved to the door. 

“Hannibal,” he called, unlocking the deadbolt. “We have a Raven.” 

Hannibal appeared from the back of the house and came to stand by Will as he opened the door. The Raven had jumped down from the chair and was waiting on the other side. Emotions were notoriously difficult to sense from Ravens but Will swore this one was amused. 

Placing a protective hand on Will’s shoulder, Hannibal looked the Raven directly in the eyes. 

“To or from?” he asked. Will started. He hadn’t considered that the Raven might be there for one of them, and he felt Hannibal’s grip on his shoulder tighten as he took an involuntary step backward. 

The Raven cocked its head and made a “caw caw caw” sound. It looked at the two of them in the doorway and made the same noise again, and then again. The bird was laughing at them. They’d been sent the only Raven with a sense of humor. 

Finally the Raven stretched its leg toward them and Will saw a scrap of paper was tied to it. Hannibal’s grip on his shoulder relaxed. 

“Only a message,” Hannibal said and Will let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Hannibal untied the paper from the Ravens leg and unfurled it to read it. He scowled, dropping the piece of paper as it disintegrated. Looking at the Raven he shook his head. 

“I do not wish to send a response,” he said. The Raven inclined its head slightly. Backing up slowly, it turned when it was halfway across the porch and ran to the edge, jumping and unfurling its wings as it did so. As it took off, Will felt a strong wind run across him and he closed his eyes at the force of it. When he opened them again, the Raven was gone. 

“Who was the message from?” he asked Hannibal. 

“The Dragon,” Hannibal responded. 

“The Dragon brought us together,” Will said. Hannibal put an arm around him. 

“And yet he still tries to tear us apart, even from the other realm.” 

Will leaned into him for a moment before noticing a black feather on their porch. He moved to pick it up. Staring at it, he said “It didn’t occur to me he might be here for one of us.” 

Hannibal reached out to pull him close. “I would not have let him take you. I would have done unspeakable things first.” 

“I know,” Will said, leaning in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I have a penchant for writing supernatural elements that I don't really explain.


	7. Being Followed

Any time Will tried to be social he regretted it. It started well enough. He was even enjoying himself. But then the man entered the bar. Something caused Will to look up, their eyes meeting across the crowded room. Will felt a chill go down his spine and immediately looked away. 

“Everything ok?” Beverly asked. 

Will shrugged. “Got a weird feeling, that’s all. Probably nothing.” He took another sip of whisky and tried to relax. None of the others had noticed anything odd. 

“That guy keeps looking over here,” Jimmy said. 

“Probably checking Will out,” Beverly said, “he’s wearing an extra nice shirt today.” Will focused on his drink while his coworkers joked about who was being checked out. He could tell it was the same guy who entered the bar earlier. And he was looking at Will - Will could feel it. But he wasn’t sure why. He made excuses to his friends, paid his tab, and left. 

He was only a few blocks from work and his car, but the streets were darker than he thought they would be. He hadn’t been walking long before he sensed someone behind him. He chanced a glance over his shoulder. It was the man from the bar. 

He speed up slightly but the man stayed with him. Even though it was a straight shot from the bar to his car, he took a left. The man followed. He took a right. Still the man followed. Several more turns and the man was still there. _What does he want with me?_ Will wondered. 

Finally he came across an alley that he ducked into, cutting through to a parallel street. From there, he ran to the corner, turned and moved slowly into the shadows. He watched the man come out of the alley and head the wrong direction. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Will began heading toward his car. He hadn’t been walking long when he felt a presence behind him again. He wished he had his knife. Feeling in his pocket, he found a pen. It would have to do. He uncapped it and gripped it tightly, then turned quickly and swung. 

A strong hand caught his wrist and he gasped. 

“Will?” A voice asked. “Are you okay?” It took him a moment to place. 

“Hannibal?” he asked, incredulous. 

“What’s wrong?” Hannibal asked. 

“I was being followed - a guy from the bar,” Will said. 

There’s no one here now,” Hannibal said, running his hands soothingly down Will’s arms. “He must have given up.” In reality the man’s body was lying in the alley, neck cleanly broken. Whatever the man’s intent had been, Will belonged to Hannibal. 

“I’m glad to see you’re wearing the shirt I gave you,” Hannibal continued when Will remained quiet. "It looks good on you." 

“Yeah, I - sorry Hannibal, that freaked me out.” 

Hannibal pulled him into a tight hug. “Let's get you home.”


End file.
